A Seat at the Table

By Ada Merello

As a woman of color raised by a single mother in Eugene in the ’80s and ’90s, I would like to reintroduce myself to my hometown from my adopted hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. Per your request for letters from unheard voices — consider this someone who is speaking up and speaking out.

It is sad but true, I didn’t realize I was a woman of color until I moved to New York City at the age of 19. It is a sweet and short story, but it is an interesting fact and allows me to reflect on my upbringing in our beloved unique Eugene.

Growing up, I attended Waldorf School, Roosevelt Middle and South Eugene High. Due to the make-up of Eugene families, I never felt singled out for being raised by a single mother or poor. Oddly enough, those weren’t distinctive characteristics. However, being a person of color was.

It would take me years of life experience and therapy for me to realize how much I was marginalized in Eugene as a person of color. It was unnecessary and sad.

As we know, Eugene is an ethnically homogeneous society — you can argue with me on this, but it is a simple fact. As a child and teenager, I was always singled out by my friends’ parents and educators about my distinctive personality. Although I was raised by a single Latina, I was not raised with my native Peruvian parents.

In Eugene, having an “odd” name was never an issue; however, being an “odd” person and outspoken woman of color came with consequences. Often, I was punished for my behavior, scolded by “respected” community members and even teased and heckled by adults and teachers.

It wouldn’t be until my life in Georgia — after a decade in Los Angeles and New York City — that I realized how harmful my formative years were. As a minority in a majority minority city, Atlanta, I have a new perspective on my ethnicity and gender. Not only is it refreshing, but it is welcomed. Albeit, as an Indigenous Latina I am still the minority and at the bottom of the pay scale — I seek to be a beacon of light to other youth who suffered in silence as I did.

This past fall I took the first steps of making these memories into actionable and productive social justice. In typical Eugenean fashion, I was raised in a socially conscious household with icons such as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Cesar Chavez, Dolores Huerta and John F. Kennedy. I was raised on protests of the central American civil wars and taught that peace and love are always the right path.

With this foundation of thought and history of oppression, I have taken my high school friend Pete Tripp’s advice: “Take your anger and put it into positive action, Ada.” I have been professionally involved with public policy, politics and issue-based campaigns for almost 25 years. What is the most actionable thing I can do to channel this anger? Well, Pete, I am running for office and seeking to flip a seat from red to blue in the Georgia State House of Representative for House District 56.

I write this to let those other little brown boys in girls in Eugene who are suffering in silence know that they are being seen and heard. To these children: You will find your place in this world.

I hope my running for office inspires you to reach for the moon, and you might fall amongst the stars. I hope my running for office allows you to know that you do have a seat at the table, that your thoughts and opinions matter. You are magical. Never let anyone take that away from you, and shine your light — inside and outside, for better or worse.

Thank you for listening to me.